Step Lightly
07-19-2013, 03:11 PM
Hansel's tail wagged as yin entered the new den he had found. He had seen her hesitate before entering, probably thinking the same thing he did before he came in. Though it seemed to him, that she was as impressed as he was. He wandered towards the back of the den, sniffing along the wall to see if anything had been here at all, but it seemed clear and free of anything dangerous. Turning to her again, he motioned for the white dame to follow. The man moved from his position, and went towards the entrance and brushed past her. "We'll bed down there, I'm gonna go get some moss or some kind of bedding material. The ground isn't as soft in here as it is outside, probably because the drafts and whatever water has been in here in the past, but it'll do for tonight. Come morning, we'll go find your brother and see if we can find help. I'll be back soon, so go ahead and rest." He urged. As he turned to leave, he hesitated. Stopping just a little distance from her and half looking away. Ears twitched nervously, then he made a quick movement of his head and brushed his muzzle against her neck. As quickly as it happened, he rushed towards the entrance and scrambled out into the night air. He took a steadying breath, wondering if he should've done what he did. What would she think? They had only just met but...he was...feeling strangely about her. And the way he acted with her, it was like he had returned to some of his childish roots. Standing in the night air, his breath appearing in small clouds, he sneezed. Sighing, he went past the den to find some materials to use as bedding. If Yin was asleep when he got back, then he'd gently place the bedding near her and probably nudge her onto it as best as he could without waking her. He knew she was probably feeling the same way as he, the wounds were numb but...it wouldn't be like that forever. His body shivered, the water had done its job but at the same time it had frozen them. If they didn't find a healer, then they could get some serious infection, or die of hypothermia. Shaking the thoughts from his mind, he walked on. The den never leaving his sights, however. Speech, Thought, Actions, You |